Working on criminal articles for the Church, your mind was full of the unknown and mysterious. Yes, you may have been a servant of the Almighty, but that didn't stop your interests. And you weren't always a nun - you're a journalist by nature. A very keen journalist.

Then Charlie showed up. Father Charlie. Maybe you've always had issues with preoccupation, or maybe he himself was... a bit special. Still, you weren't the only one who thought he was acting out, were you? Special. You were easy to get along with and he was... special too, yes.

Maybe that was his steady gaze that was directed right at you when you handed him the article sample. Maybe... you're making this up all by yourself while your eyes are so intent on going down. Being only in the towel around his hips and freshly out of shower it's hard to concentrate on anything at all but him.The icons seem to weigh judgmentally over you.

"Would you mind? Drying my back?" His words ring out as your brain tries to quickly reconfigure your route

Or maybe the boundary of what's permissible was erased a long time ago? Or was it never there? It's so hard to know when he's standing in front of you like that.